Even if it seemed like the opposite. There were children running by with little care to look where they were going. Adolescents carried baskets full of food and clothing. A boy walked by with an achipuma, and Kasik, struck with determination, turned sharply to follow.
They passed by several tents, some with their entrances pinned open and flowers planted around the perimeter, before turning onto a wide path that led closer to the tree line. A fenced pasture came into view. In one corner was a wooden lean-to on a small plot of grass, and lounging in the shade underneath the lean-to was a familiar beast.
Two, actually.
Capac and Illari looked as though they hadn’t a single care in the world. Kasik looked around, wondering if the bandits who stole Illari were nearby. He was itching for a fight, but there was only the boy with a bucket of food in his arms and the curious glances he sent Kasik’s way.
With a sigh, Kasik turned back to the enclosure and whistled low. Capac’s ears twitched. Illari lifted her head. They both stared at him,unbothered and uninterested, before Illari slowly got to her feet and left Capac behind to greet him. He could hear her purr even from where he stood as she lowered her head to be scratched between the ears. He imagined it had been this easy for the bandits to gain her trust.
It was said that, long ago, achipumas were companions and protectors of the gods, ferocious and fierce hunters that tore apart any being that presented the smallest threat to their master. Kasik watched Illari roll onto her back and present her belly, and he shook his head. They served their purpose, but whatever ferociousness they possessed before was long gone after hundreds of years of pampering.
A moment later, Kasik’s hand was pushed aside and Illari’s belly was replaced with Capac’s head. Kasik smiled. His feline friend had always been jealous.
“Hey, boy,” Kasik cooed. Capac shoved his head underneath Kasik’s arm and demanded to be scratched. “I missed you, too.”
It wasn’t that he had doubted whether the achipuma was alive—he had no doubt that Capac could adapt and survive in the Tuta Kulla—but they had never been separated for so long since Kasik was a small child, and Capac even smaller.
Master Wara had taught him that achipumas did not bond with their humans, that they belonged to the gods and the emperor alone. But Kasik didn’t believe it. Not when Capac was in his face, his pitch-black eyes boring into Kasik as if to say,Wherehave you been?and all the outrage and turmoil that swirled in Kasik’s chest was soothed with the gentle rumble of Capac’s purr.
The happiness of the reunion was short-lived, though, when Kasik felt a presence at his side.
“He hasn’t let anyone get near him.”
Hatun held out a hand, and Capac bared his wickedly sharp teeth at it. Kasik couldn’t help but laugh.
“He’s incredibly loyal,” Kasik said proudly. “Unlike that one.” He nodded toward Illari, who had moved on to the boy and was being hand-fed a piece of raw meat.
“With time and reason, loyalties can change,” Hatun said pointedly.
Kasik stiffened. Capac nudged his hand to encourage him to keep scratching. “Loyalties only change for those with traitorous hearts. Capac has been with me since we were both very young. He knows my heart as I know his.”
Hatun hummed. “But a man’s heart is fickle. They make promises they cannot keep and want things they cannot have.”
Kasik turned to challenge Hatun, but the man was paying him no mind, his eyes pinned to a point behind him and toward camp. Out of curiosity, Kasik followed his gaze and found Shayim and Nina walking down the center of two rows of brown and green tents, every so often stopping to talk to a child running by or a woman with a basket full of fruit.
Nina stood apart from Shayim, and Kasik could see, even from a distance, that there was a small smile on her face. That her body leaned forward while also trying to give them space. She watched the faces of those who spoke, and she waved at a small child who glanced her way and then ran away giggling.
Behind that tenacious and hardened exterior, he saw someone who wanted to belong. Someone whose convictions were at odds with the expectations placed on her shoulders.
Someone like him.
“I keep my promises,” Kasik said. He turned back to Hatun again, certainty heavy on his tongue. “They are all I am.”
“Yes, but it’s not about the promises we make,” he said. “It’s about who we make them to.”
Hatun clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by. Kasik stayed rooted in place, jaw tense, his mind racing with Hatun’s words. Capachad given up on him and joined Illari where she lay licking her paws. The sky was clear and the air was crisp with the scent of winter. He hoped the calm weather would last until they made it back to Vira.
If we make it back to Vira, he thought, and he wasn’t sure why. There was no other choice—not for him or for Nina. He wasn’t lying when he told her that Emperor Maicu would find them. The man was singularly focused on whatever fleeting fancy caught his attention.
It seemed that, this time, it was a new wife, and whatever his reasons, Kasik knew he was willing to do anything to see it come to fruition. And if he found an ayllu hidden deep in the Tuta Kulla, in an area that he thought conquered and claimed, thriving without the promise of his protection? That had slipped under his watchful eye? Kasik shuddered to think of the repercussions.
Again, he wished they had kept him tied up in that tent, blind to allthis. Their freedom was a threat, but more than that, it was a lie. Just as Shayim’s words.
The Ikara were violent and monstrous, and Seers were a twisted myth born from generations of rumors and desperate wishes. Her claim to possessing such a vast power undermined every word she said.
If she truly had served Emperor Yachua, why wasn’t she at Emperor Maicu’s side? And if she was his mamay’s sister, why had she abandoned Kasik to his tayta? Why stay hidden with these people? Unless she had done something unforgivable, something so atrocious that she had been forced away.
And he had left Nina with her.
